


In the ruins

by Dmonius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmonius/pseuds/Dmonius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a dark, alternate universe, Hermione is one of the few members of the Order left standing and raging a lonesome war against the Dark Lord, until one of her enemies comes to ask for assistance, that is. </p><p>"Where did you bury Dumbledore?"<br/>"That knowledge is forbidden."<br/>"There are ways to make you talk."<br/>"And it is buried so deep, no Imperius will let you find it."<br/>"There are still ways."<br/>"Torture? You know that scar on my arm? The one that says Mudblood? Remember how I ripped her throat with her very own wand when I got the chance?"<br/>"You’re not the only one with a mark, my love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They never saw her coming. The door only slightly opened and the potion, timed from the second she put it into the bottle, exploded, spreading its mist everywhere. And then, they heard her, when it was far too late. _Bombada Maxima_. A spell she mastered, when? Third year? She opened the door and stepped outside, stupefying those, that were still moving and then tying them up in only two seconds.

One was still standing then, looking at her wand, the only thing to be seen, and she used a spell that Dumbledore had taught her, actually meant to confront several opponents and knocking them out with a temporary loss of memory at the same time. She might have broken a few limps as the impact of the spell hit that young Death Eater who could have been one of her students. If she ever had chosen that life.

A movement of her wand and the mist had been dispersed. The floo powder in her right pocket sent the unconscious Death Eaters away and after it was done, she was gone when anybody came in.

Back in the ruins she called home, she had no other choice but to discard the vanishing cabinet. She took it apart piece by piece, tearing away all the spells that came with it for but one purpose: to make a fire that may keep her warm at night.

Weeks she had spent in the tent, until an idea came to her, as they always do. The only thing she had left were ideas – good ones, great ones, brilliant ones at times. But times like these, she couldn’t be any less than brilliant and Merlin, it was exhausting. Maybe it had been the magic, much older and stronger than that which she stole from Borgin and Burkes, that protected the Room of Requirements, but maybe, it was sheer luck that ensured that it was still there, the only door in a castle full of ghosts and empty classrooms.

She turned on the fire in front of the wall, with the room seven floors up there. She tried not to draw any attention to it, in case she was ever found.

What a shame the library was first thing to burn. Its ashes were still glowing long after the battle had been over. The books she still had were far more dangerous – they were written by Muggles. Orwell’s _1984_ was her book of choice for such a night, always leaving out the last parts, but instead, she chose to read some Kafka.

"I must say, I expected something better from you."

Whatever hardships Josef K. may had to endure, she felt something far worse. It wasn’t that she was found – it was the voice that found her.

She had discarded the book in a second and drew her wand when the curse just hit the spot she had been sitting a moment before. The then-to-follow lightshow was a mere distraction, as she ran across the room and jumped up a floor. A curse almost hit her. She turned around and faced him holding her wand at him.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"After all, you learned the trick from me, didn’t you?" he replied.

She sent a curse towards him and ran across the wallless hallway. His curses never hit her, but then she heard how he jumped on that hallway. She had no other choice but to face him.

He dodged the _Stupefy_ , the _Sectumsempra_ and most of the new spells she had invented in these long months of loneliness, and then she did the same to him. There never was an unforgivable one, but that wouldn’t mean she’d hold back.

It was a dance after all. One they had mastered years ago and even without any practice, they still knew how to make it last. Immediately, as if upon his return, they had again forgotten how to stop.

He circled her, as if to create the illusion of proximity via his perpetual movement, but she wasn’t to be fooled easily. She could feel the heat of the battle reaching its peak; they became stronger and weaker by the minute. She could only use it to her advantage, but when she came with fire, he responded with ice, and – as Frost recently told her – for destruction, both were nice and would suffice.

Then, it happened, of course. Their spells met in the air and – evenly matched as they were – created an explosion that cast both of them aside. He only got up a second early and didn’t hesitate. The _Expelliarmus_ sent her back against the wall – again.

"So that happened", he said. "Do you still get more talkative when I take away your wand?"

"Who says I need it?"

She stretched out her arm and hit his shoulder with that bare, wandless show of force. Then, she opened her hand and called her wand home. Then, they had reached the inevitable impasse.

"You do know that I took out Death Eaters far more powerful and experienced than you."

"But you never killed them. That’s your biggest mistake."

"Aren’t you glad that at least I spared your father and only destroyed his wand?"

"Just because I killed Dumbledore doesn’t mean I’m heartless."

"Where are the others?" She knew she had to keep him talking. He wouldn’t let down his guard, but that won’t matter.

"You really want to turn this into a ménage-à-trois? There are no others. I came alone as soon as I realized what you did. The others might figure out that the explosion happened from the _inside_ , but then they won’t come up with the connection to the cabinet soon enough."

She remained silent. Then she sighed. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"I thought you’d never ask."

"You do know that you have to lower your wand so I can get up and make some?"

"And put an end to this beautiful stalemate? You disappoint me, Hermione Granger."

"Look into the mirror. You have disappointment written all over your face, Draco Malfoy."

***

He was no longer a boy, yet in his eyes, she was probably still a girl and not the woman she had become. But then again, underestimation could always come in handy. Had worked with Theodore Nott after all.

"How’s Theo?" she asked, as she put on the cattle.

"Well." Of course, he had chosen to sit down, all in his black robes and dishevelled hair. It had taken only a mere movement of her wand to recreate the order that so many spells had destroyed.

She sat down and looked at him. His shoulders were still broader than she remembered – always had been. She smiled.

"What is there to smile about?"

"I like to do that every now and then. Helps to keep me grounded."

"Grounded where?"

"Please Draco. Let’s skip the passive-aggressive bound to come and tell me what you want."

"I need information."

"Then go somewhere else. Doesn't Trelawney still offer her services?"

"Where did you bury Dumbledore?"

She didn't expected that, to be fair. Now she looked up into that face, that beautiful, hardened face that could only show emotions in a smirk and in rage. Now it didn’t show any.

"That knowledge is forbidden."

"There are ways to make you talk."

"And it is buried so deep, no _Imperius_ will let you find it."

"There are still ways."

"Torture? You know that scar on my arm? The one that says Mudblood? Remember how I ripped her throat with her very own wand when I got the chance?"

"You’re not the only one with a mark, my love."

She hadn’t kept up the pace because then he was in front of her. He had crossed the fire and was close to her, almost to close again. He put his hand on her right arm, as if to keep her wand in place, and looked her in the eye.

"I won’t tell you a thing."

"Aren’t you tired, Hermione? Tired of this Sisyphean war you rage all by your lonesome? You cannot win, you know that. There is only darkness in this world. It can be his, but it can also be mine. Which do you prefer?"

"I can still fight. For them."

"For Ron? For Harry? I’ve danced on their graves and I’ll gladly do so again."

"For all of them."

"And who’s left there to fight for? Molly’s insane and Luna’s merely a ghost haunting her own home. The rest is in chains, real ones or in the mind."

"And this has always been your biggest mistake."

He kissed her, then, and she responded as eagerly as she had the night of the Great Battle, the night this castle had been torn apart. Weeks in the Malfoy Manor had her mind come apart, but he was always there.

He looked at her and smiled after he had ended the kiss. "Still ways."

She smiled back and then looked up.

" _Stupefy_!"

Draco got hit and went up in the air. Hermione caught him with her wand, but that was just what he needed. He now sent her swirling away and Hermione could hear the magical exchange of pleasantries between him and his attacker. She took a breath and an even deeper one before she turned around and cried out: “Stop!”

Draco moved back and held his wand up in a protective stance. Hermione held hers down in a – futile? – nonthreatening gesture and turned towards the newcomer.

"Care to explain, Malfoy, what you were doing with my girl?"

Cormac came out of the shadows, ever more the brawny, awesome sight. She had gotten cold in years of battle, he on the other hand became a warrior. Maybe the only one the Light had left. His face remained in the shadows and she knew why.

"I’m not your girl, Cormac."

"When he has you all kissing and making dreamy faces, you sure are still more my girl than his."

"Are you afraid, McLaggen, that I will give her something that she will make her want to come back to me?"

"You’re an appetizer, Malfoy. She has you for breakfast and then shares dinner with me."

"If you don’t cut it out right now, you’ll both be turned into ferrets."

"It’s not as bad as it looks," Draco said, shrugging.

"Lower your wands."

"Do as she says, Malfoy."

"Wands. It’s plural, Cormac."

Nothing happened and she sighed. "Come out of the shadows, Cormac. We have things to discuss."

Cormac came out of the shadow, holding his wand in a position that could almost count as non-threatening. She saw him and it brought a tear to her eye – the scar that ran along his face and other parts of his body, black and burned just like the library he tried to protect. She knew who put it there and was relieved that Nott didn’t become a eunuch for no reason.

"What things?"

"The terms of this armistice."

Draco smiled and put away his wand. Cormac sat down at the fire and Hermione did the same. She knew he’d want to sleep close to her in a night like this, starless and still without clouds, and she would let him, if only to have Draco know, but now, she’d keep her distance. Draco sat down and took the cuppa out of Hermione’s hand.

"Do you know, McLaggen, where they buried Dumbledore?" he said, almost trying to be casual.

Cormac took his cuppa and smiled. "No, one party I wasn’t invited to, so don’t bother trying to hex me."

"That leaves only her, then. You are the last person alive or sane enough, Hermione."

"Why come to me for this knowledge, Draco? What could you possibly gain?"

"Why did you break into Borgin and Burkes, Hermione?"

"You didn’t!" Cormac stood up that second and yelled: "I forbade you to do it by yourself. I told you to wait until I came back from New Zealand – why didn’t you?"

"It doesn’t matter," said both Draco and Hermione.

"I got what I came for and that’s it." Hermione motioned for him to sit down.

"Besides: I wouldn’t have found her otherwise." Draco did the same, imitating her gesture and making Hermione already regret what she had done.

"I need something from his grave. Something they buried with him."

"If you really think we’re going to let you desecrate a grave, let one alone that of Dumbledore, you’re more insane than I thought."

"What I seek has no purpose in a grave, McLaggen."

"I know what you want," Hermione said.

"How could you possibly?" Draco apparently had gotten able to show another emotion on his face: confusion. Years of trying to understand an aunt that lost all the ability to talk must have done that. Hermione wondered how Beatrix did her spells.

"I read the Tales of Beedle and then figured it out."

"It took me years to figure it all out."

"Your point being?"

"I read the tales too and I have no idea what you two are talking about," Cormac said.

"Then keep away from things that don’t concern you."

"She’s all that concerns me, you slimy pureblood."

"Then, dear blood traitor, you should maybe keep your mouth shut."

"Leave, Cormac."

Both turned towards her and both were confused, at first. Draco then smiled and nodded. "Go on, do as your girlfriend says."

Cormac got up and walked towards her, so she stood up, too.

"I’m not leaving you alone with him of all people, Hermione."

"I can’t do this with you. You’re distracting him. And me."

"I left you without my protection for far too long."

"Who was protecting whom? I take care of myself. You have your duties," she said, and then added, with a look to Draco, "And so have I mine."

Of course he had to kiss her, if only to participate in that stupid show of masculine dominance that Draco was playing him in all along. Cormac walked back into the shadows and she knew that he’d get on his broom.

"So, now that we are alone –"

"Shut up, Draco." And that he did. "Since you came here to reveal your intentions, you leave me with three choices. Erase your memory, which is probably futile, kill you, which I am still considering, or make sure that you do it my way."

"What are you saying?"

"I will come with you. That way I can keep an eye on you, make sure if your intentions are as pure as you say they are."

"And what if this is an elaborate scheme by the Dark Lord to make you reveal the Elder Wand?"

"Then, you should know that I know of ways to destroy it, too."

"You want to destroy the wand?"

"I didn’t say that." She swallowed and said, "I considered it. But I believe you may have a point."

"You can still kill me. Then the wand would be yours."

"The Elder Wand is for those who seek power, Draco. It comes to them, naturally. Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard ever to walk the earth and hence, the wand came to him, as it will come back to you."

"So you’re saying I’m powerful? What are you then?"

"Gifted, of course."

He laughed and nodded. "You may have a point there. So where is it? Where is the grave? Is it on the school grounds, hidden in the Forbidden Forest or in the dungeons?"

Hermione waited for a second, and then she said: "Avalon. We buried him in Avalon."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione and Draco left the Room of Requirement at dawn, and she led their way down the hill toward Hagrid’s old cottage. She was carrying the bag that she, Ron and Harry had used on their futile search for the Horkurxes and had put everything in there they might need and a few things more.

“There are some things that need to be done before we depart,” she said.

“Like?”

“You’ll see.” She paused and then reached into her bag, pulling out the Cloak of Invisibility. “Put this on.”

“What is it?”

“It will make you invisible for the time being.”

“You don’t trust me enough to keep me alone, yet you let me wear this priceless heirloom from one of your closest friends?”

“Had I known you were such a keen observer, I might have cherished you more wisely.”

“You mean as the one you leave behind?”

He didn’t argue anymore and just put on the cloak, disappearing underneath it. She touched the silk-like fabric of it and told herself that it was only because of the memory and not of the bearer that she did so.

Hagrid’s old cottage was nothing more than a ruin. She stood in front of the burnt down building and took a deep breath. Then she took Draco on a walk around a portion of the forest that hid something behind it.

Behind that part of the forest, which they didn’t cross, was a hole in the ground and a gigantic man, naked and with a long beard that covered most of his body and was slowly turning grey, sat. A chain connected him to a post in the ground, it didn’t give him much to room to move, but it had to be enough.

“Hallo, Hagrid.”

“Hermione!” The giant got up and stretched out his arms, but she didn’t come forward and didn’t hug him like she used to, back in the old days when she was still a child. “What brings you here?”

“I will be leaving,” she said, and he nodded as if he understood. “And I’m not sure when I will be coming back.”

“Or ever?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Cormac did always get along fine with him, as he was able to keep that balance between authoritative and understanding. She always gave up one for the other. Like always.

“I need you to also watch out for the castle while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Hermione.”

Hagrid made a step forward, but reached the end of his chain and it made her cringe when the chain tensed up and reminded them all of the prisoner in the hole. She regretted bringing Draco along. He could see her and Hagrid becoming a spectacle for his amusement, but she didn’t care what he would do with the information now in his possession.

“One more thing, though.” Hermione walked around the whole and reached the end of the forest. “I need to walk into the forest.”

“But it is the Forbidden Forest, Hermione! You mustn’t go there, I’m the Guardian, remember?”

“It is imperative that I go there. Please, let me enter.”

Hagrid sat down next to the post of his chain. He was sad, evidently, but nodded and stretched out his arm to allow her entry into the Forbidden Forest.

“Thank you, Hagrid.”

She walked into the whole, feeling Draco right behind her, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Then, she quickly left and did not look back.

After a few minutes, Draco spoke to her.

“I always wondered what happened to him. How did he get chained to that hole?”

“I put him there.”

***

The spiders came when they were will within the forest. They had heard the centaurs – those few left – galloping to announce their presence, but Hermione had dealt with them in the past and they wouldn’t come near. Firenze hat promised her that much.

Umbridge had indeed been a worthy sacrifice.

“I hope you’re not afraid of them.”

“I always preferred snakes, to be honest.”

“Whatever happens. Don’t talk. Don’t move. Don’t do any magic. I have everything under control.”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t be amazed. And forget everything you’ll see.”

The small ones came first, crawling all over the moss and the trees, but never crossing the path that Hermione and Draco walked on. They could probably feel Draco, but who knew what eight eyes could see?

Despite the darkness so deep, she had not raised her wand and not made any attempt at light, mostly to make Draco uneasy. Then, she took one step from the path and stepped on the moss. The spiders quickly moved away – until one of the big ones came out of the darkness and stood in front of her.

“The Ranger does not wish to see any of your kind.”

“Having one of his bad days, isn’t he?”

“You are not alone.”

“I wish to speak to your master. Tell the Ranger, the Princess has returned.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes; the galloping returned and then paused. It seemed, the whole forest was watching, and Hermione was growing impatient.

“I shall say it one last time: I wish to speak to your master. Tell the Ranger, I have returned.”

“He is indisposed at the moment.”

“You have two options. You show me to him no matter what he is doing at the moment. Or: I’ll burn down the forest like I promised I would do if you ever cross me again.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You know who is with me. Don’t question my motivation, then.”

The spider lowered his head and Hermione walked on. The ocean of spiders parted a way that she and Draco could walk upon. The farther they got, the fewer spiders accompanied them and when the way was clear, none seemed to be around.

“Who are we going to see now? Filch? I thought he’s in Azkaban.”

“It’s not Filch. You think a squib could have control over the forest?”

“There are only few things nowadays that amaze me.”

“So I’ve heard.”

They reached a glade after crossing a small river with a bridge that Draco – politely – created with his wand. The glade, illuminated by mother sun herself, was empty, but Hermione knew that he would be waiting at the other end, so they crossed the glade and looked up into the sun.

“Don’t you wish you could just stay here?”

“In the sun?”

“In the forest.”

“You only saw the surface. You don’t know what else is inside.”

“So your threat was real? You would burn down the forest if they crossed you?”

“It’s not an empty threat if that’s what you mean. But burning it down would mean to unleash forces beyond our control. There is reason they put it here and why I placed Hagrid in front of it. But we digress. We have been in the sun for far too long. Let’s go back into the shadows.”

She walked back into the forest and there she saw Neville and what he had done this time. He was in a green robe, made out of moss, and on his knees, right in front of the white, fluorescent body of a unicorn. It had lost its horn as the stump on its forehead clearly indicated and only a second later, she saw the horn in Neville’s hand. Not only had he overpowered the creature; he had killed it with its own horn and kept on drinking its blood.

“Hello, Neville.”

He paused only for a moment and then continued his grisly labour. She sighed and said: “I wish to speak with you.”

“Go away.”

“It’s the Princess, dear ranger. I have returned, dear Ranger.”

Neville then looked up at her. There were no scars on his body, they were only in the inside, and the silver blood kept flowing down his lips, his throat and his body. He cleaned his mouth with his hand and stood up, bowing down before her. In another life, she would have been petrified by the mere sight of his blasphemy, how he desecrated the purity of the unicorn. But in an age of darkness, it was only one of my victims yet to come.

“Why have you returned, dear Princess?”

“A long time ago, I gave you many things. For safekeeping. And I now I ask one thing back.”

“What is it you want?”

“You will know of what I speak. I gave you the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It has served you well in the past, but now I must demand it back.”

“I don’t have a sword.”

Hermione felt her heart sting; they couldn’t have taken it. She had hidden it so well inside the forest; nobody dwelled here, nobody ever came here except for those who had nowhere else to go.

“But it is in my home.”

“Will you take me there?”

“No. But I will be back soon.”

And then he disappeared. Hermione broke his wand – personally – and yet, the magic it had unleashed in him seemed to be almost under his control. It became more difficult every time she ventured into the forest. Maybe it was indeed her last time.

“I must say, ‘indisposed’ doesn’t quite cover it. What’s with the fairy tales, dear Princess?”

“A game we started to play when I was under my care.”

“Before you dumped him in the forest you mean?”

“He couldn’t stay with me. It was too dangerous for him and for those who were with us. Here, the spiders have an eye on him, serve him. And he gets to do what he always wanted.”

“Raping and killing unicorns? What a past-time.”

“He always loved to garden.”

“Who are you speaking to, Princess?”

Neville had come back. He stood in front of an oak that almost covered him.

“To myself, Ranger. To myself. Only to myself.”

He nodded, almost satisfied. “I almost forgot where I had buried it. But then, the knowledge came back to me.”

Then he paused and smiled. “You remember how I tried to kill that snake with it? Before it got to Ginny and killed her instead?”

“I was there, remember?”

“Happy days.”

“Please, put it on the ground so I can take it.”

“I want to give it to you.”

Neville made a few steps and came close again. She almost made a step back, but took in a deep breath and repeated: “Put it on the ground so I can take it.”

“But it is much easier if I just give it to you, Princess.”

“The Stepmother wants you to do that, Ranger. That means we mustn’t.”

“Stop that silly game, Hermione! Here, I’ll give it to you.”

And again, he made a step forward and pulled the blade out of the grip on his back. Before Hermione could order him again, she saw Draco’s wand and heard the spell: “ _Crucio_!”

The cry must have been heard in Hogsmeade. She knew why. It wasn’t the pain that Neville felt, but that he had felt at a time long gone. Draco didn’t know that, probably, thought that it was his doing where a memory proved to be so much stronger.

She pulled out her wand, got hold of the sword first and then stunned both of them. She stood there and waited who would return first. Of course, it was Draco.

“I told you no magic.”

It should have made her sad that she didn’t object the unforgivable curse. Again something that her past self wouldn’t have understood. Draco could have gone for something else, but he had chosen the _Crucio_ for a reason, a reason, she understood all to well.

“He was aiming for your head.”

“He was three yards over there. He wanted to show it to me, you pompous idiot.”

“We got it now. So let’s move.”

Hermione sighed and went to Neville. She cleaned the blood from his clothing, yet a drop fell on her black robe and stayed, tried to resist her magic and succeeded. Neville also got his kiss and she hoped that he would just forget about it, like he forgot about everything else.

“Good day, my Ranger. May your dreams be of me.”

She chose to exit the forest at Hagrid’s hovel. Nothing was to be heard when they walked along the forest; no centaurs, no spiders, no giants, no movement, for the master was fast asleep and the Princess just left. Draco gave her back the Cloak and she put it into her bag along with the sword.

“How do we get to Avalon, then?”

“You know what the worst part is?” she asked.

“That they didn’t have to die to turn into ghosts?”

“Along with everything else.”


End file.
